Appalachian pranayama
as night falls, the mingled exhalation of trees rises
from wooded slopes; misty breath of forest
collects in the creases between mountains, rolls
downhill to inundate farmsteads and towns,
a snowy river of quiescence faintly aglow
and blue in the deepening twilight
6 thoughts on "Appalachian pranayama"
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I love this. It reminds me of camping!
This is so evocative. Thanks for sharing.
love, love, love how you can hear the trees breathe at night, how you extend the metaphor downhill, how the poem makes me want to stay up so I can have the experience first-hand
Beautiful imagery.
A quick snapshot of unique vistas…
Thank you, everyone, for reading and leaving such lovely comments. I’m so pleased that you enjoyed the poem. 🙂